Once when I was 16, I think, me and ‘da man dem’ (lol, I’m too old to use that in real life) were playing that game that young boys and girls in London play down Oxford Street. You know, the ‘how many numbers can you get’ and ‘you pick em, I chat em’. Ok, so remember this was years ago, and I’m going somewhere with this. Anyways, the point is, I never really played, actually, I bottled it almost every time, or made excuses about having to go into H&M for something when I knew they all knew I hated shopping. You see, I was a pretty shy one growing up. Always the one standing next to the guy chatting up the fitness. Don’t aww me!! I was happier than Gordon Brown when he heard the words “oh alright then, your turn”. I mean, chatting up a member of the opposite sex felt like sitting my GCSE’s and A Levels all at once, while going 60mph strapped to the roof of my mates £300 Ford Escort. I was happy, believe me.
Several years later and at university, me and a few friends are out after a long day studying and getting ready for exams, yeah right! That’s for my mom if she ever reads this (love ya). I had just finished a gig somewhere so I was relatively sober ( I don’t drink when I Dj, plays havoc with left hand action). So there I am in this club, sober and watching everyone else as they go about their mating rituals. It wasn’t till that moment it occurs to me that the last time I had tried to chat up a female went about as well as a Simon Cowell attempt at positive criticism. No time better than the present to get some much needed practice in I thought. So I scout out my most likeliest (is that a word?) victim…and by victim I mean I’m just doing it as an exercise, fire drill if you will…dry run lol (I thought that up myself).
One girl I never really met before, but knew all my mates knew her, if you know what I mean. She was blond (I don’t really feel blonds), about a 5 rating (I’m not being cruel, just honest, I’m sure your very beautiful and all the things they say about you and your eyes are true…). So basically she wasn’t my type and I just went for it cause I thought it was highly unlikely I’d get thrown back like a Primark reject (if such a thing exists). I make my approach, ‘hey how you doing, what’s your name? Pass me your number and I’ll bell you some time!’ She looks at me up and down, smiles and just shakes her head. Shakes her head?!!?
For a brief moment in my short but eventful life, I became ‘that dude’ in this video. Friday nights will never be the same again…
I absolutely love this video (pause it on the pic of the neighbours who get woken up, classic) and tune, not many UK females actually have a product I can’t falter. Very swish beat, couldn’t find out who produced it, but I’ll get on it. Envy has those kind of bars (if your in Devon, that’s lyrics) that are actually far better than the ones from those Mc’s who always have that one line “I’m the best mc” (or something to that effect, why is there always one idiot with that? Someone tell him please...). One person on youtube wrote “Anyone who manages to use the word Butter’s deserves a number one”. I concur.
FreeStyle
P.s Envy, if your reading this...Pass me your number? I like a girl who knows how to rock an Era
:)
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